


Probable Cause

by LakeHermione



Series: Reasonable Doubt [2]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Non-Clone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 14:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LakeHermione/pseuds/LakeHermione
Summary: Another crime story set in the same AU as “Reasonable Doubt.” If you haven’t read “Reasonable Doubt,” (and let’s be honest, you probably haven’t) see the spoilery summary provided below.It’s been a year since the whole Vic/murder debacle and Sarah's back in town and once again finds herself on the wrong side of the law after a wild night. Naturally, her timing's atrocious as Beth is knee deep in preparations with Rachel Duncan to testify in a high profile murder trial that could make or break both of their careers.  Against her better judgment, Beth once again bails Sarah out. However, after the unthinkable happens, it’s Beth who needs to be rescued.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reasonable Doubt in a Nutshell: Non-clone AU in which Beth, Sarah and Charlotte are biological sisters raised by their foster mom Siobhan (along with Felix) after their mother died from a drug overdose when they were small. Now they're all grown up.  Beth is a workaholic cop in her late 20s with an increasingly worrisome prescription drug habit. Sarah is a hard-drinking, unemployed drifter in her mid 20s with slight (okay more than slight) criminal tendencies.  And Charlotte is a college student in her early 20s (and probably the only truly functional adult of the group.)  When Vic is found dead on Christmas Day with Sarah's prints all over the murder weapon, she soon finds herself in jail facing murder charges.  She probably knows who did it, but she's not talking (that would be very bad for her health), so it's up to Beth and Cosima (the public defender assigned to Sarah's case) to figure out a way to save Sarah from herself because she has a hole in her alibi and Rachel Duncan (the hard-charging prosecutor assigned to her case) doesn't like to lose.   

   
Beth had just gotten out of the shower and started toweling off her hair when she noticed her work phone lit up and vibrating.

“Childs” she answered.

“Oh hey, Beth. This is John Sullivan from central booking.”

“Hey Sully. What’s up?” said Beth as she opened her medicine cabinet, hesitated a moment and then slammed it shut. 

“We booked one of your holds last night.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?” said Beth with distracted interest, now surveying the contents of her closet.

“Sarah Manning.” Her shoulders sank.

“Oh shit, really?” she sighed, “What for?”

“Dunno. Don’t have the paperwork yet. They still got her in the tank.”

“Great” she sighed.

“You gonna come get her?”

Beth paused and glanced at her watch. She really didn’t have time for this. At all. More importantly, she had promised herself, Siobhan, her psychologist and both counselors that she’d stop trying to rescue Sarah. Especially after Sarah had skipped town—again--after a few months of working at the flower shop and living at home following the whole Vic/murder debacle.  Naturally, she left in trademark Sarah fashion--which is to say without so much as a goodbye.  Beth tried to be Zen about it, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from putting a hold on Sarah in the booking system knowing sooner or later she’d get picked up again.  Of course, it had to be today of all days. She was supposed to be meeting Rachel Duncan in an hour to prep for an evidentiary hearing in a murder trial later that afternoon. 

Perhaps the most surprising thing to come out of Sarah’s arrest last year following Vic’s murder (for which she was thankfully exonerated) was that Beth had become good friends with both Cosima Neihaus, the public defender who had been assigned to defend Sarah and even more unexpectedly Rachel Duncan, the prosecutor assigned to Sarah’s case.  After it was all over, the three of them began regularly meeting up for drinks or dinner.  Cosima was the one who really got it started.  After they had randomly ended up having drinks one night shortly once the charges against Sarah had been dropped, Cosima had collected Beth’s cell phone number and a few weeks later Beth found herself in an group text with Cosima and Rachel that Cosima had labeled the “the Justice League.” Having bonded over their shared experiences in the criminal justice system, their group text was basically a mixture of venting and gallows humor coupled with a healthy dash of Cosima and Rachel making fun of each other.  And when one of them needed to let off steam, they sent out the “bat signal”—the emojis for a martini, a glass of red wine and the one that looks like brown liquor in a rocks glass.  Sometimes Cosima’s wife, Delphine, joined them too.  She was an emergency room doctor at Queens Hospital with an unpredictable schedule so she wasn’t so much a regular at their gatherings, but rather made cameo appearances from time to time. Beth didn’t have that have many friends other than Art. It had been nice--especially since Paul had left.     

The evidentiary hearing in the murder case that afternoon was going to be an absolute circus featuring Beth in center stage.  Marion Bowles, the former chief of staff (and mistress) of city councilman and erstwhile mayoral candidate Aldous Leekie, had been found dead.  Beth and Art had been the lead detectives on the case, but Beth had been the one to swear out the warrant to search Leekie’s house and she’d also been the one to find the gun that forensics later tied to him and Bowles’s body via DNA evidence.  Leekie was charged with first degree murder and aggravated assault and Rachel was the lead prosecutor.  Rachel had a well-earned reputation around the courthouse for being intense and prickly under normal circumstances. This case, however, had leveled her up to unparalleled heights of prosecutorial zeal. 

And now the defense was trying to get both the gun and the forensic evidence thrown out claiming the police lacked probable cause to search Leekie’s home and that Beth had mishandled the gun evidence causing DNA to transfer from other items Beth and Art had seized from the home to the gun.  She’d done everything by the book, but that never stopped a good defense lawyer from throwing everything at the wall to see if something would stick and Aldous Leekie had hired the most expensive criminal defense lawyer in the city.

His name was Daniel Rosen, but Cosima and the rest of the public defenders derisively called him “King Midas” since he charged $1,200 an hour and never seemed to go anywhere without his large entourage of well-heeled and overpriced associates.  Most of Rosen’s practice was in the area of white collar crime (and if the rumors were true, organized crime) as they were the only defendants who could afford his services.  On the rare occasion some wealthy client (or more likely one of their children) was charged with something more low-brow like drug possession or DUI and Rosen found himself in district court “with the riff-raff,” Rachel and Cosima both agreed he was actually a little out of his element since he didn’t normally take that sort of case.   Of course that didn’t stop rich people like Aldous Leekie from assuming expensive meant better.  In fact Cosima actually seemed to be actively rooting for Rosen to fall flat on his face.  Beth supposed it was sort of galling that Rosen and his entourage probably billed more for a single day in court than a public defender like Cosima or even a prosecutor like Rachel made in an entire month.  

Anyway, to say that this was a high profile case was an understatement. To say it was also bringing out both the best and worst of Rachel Duncan would be an even bigger one.  Rachel had been calling Beth daily for a month to go over her testimony and had made her sit through no less than five “mock” cross-examinations where she simulated the harsh questioning Beth was likely to face from the defense in a vicious and sneering style that at times she seemed to be enjoying a little too much. 

Knowing full well that Rachel would flay her if she missed the last prep session, Beth nonetheless screwed her eyes shut and found herself saying, “Yep.  Be right over.” If Sarah had done something really bad, she’d leave her there and deal with it later.  If it was just normal stupid Sarah shit, she’d see what she could do for her and then hurry off to court.  Probably only be like a half hour late for prep anyway.  She quickly composed a breezy little text to Rachel to let her know she might be a “just a few minutes late.” She winced to herself and hit send.  

Rachel responded almost immediately: (“PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE JOKING”) and then (“I’M SORRY I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS?”) and then (“Sorry to shout at you. ETA?”) Beth texted back: (“Soon.”)  Thought bubbles appeared on her phone, but disappeared without a response. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Beth arrived at the downtown station, she made her way through security and took the stairs down to the part of the women’s detention center affectionately known as the “the drunk tank” or more often just “the tank.”  It was a self-contained section of lock-up with a few padded benches, some hospital-style beds, a toilet and a sink where they kept and monitored the people they arrested who seemed especially drunk, high or both. Beth flashed her badge to the desk officer and asked for Sarah. 

“Wanna waive charges?” he asked.

“Depends on what she did” smirked Beth. The desk officer then shuffled some paperwork around and handed her the patrolman’s report from the night before.  The narrative on the bottom of the page read, “Officers called to the 5100 block of Harrison Street at approximately 0200 following reports of a disturbance at the Blue Ox Lounge.  When officers arrived a female, mid-20s was shouting obscenities at the bouncer who had requested she leave the establishment. A strong odor of alcohol was detected on or about her person. When officers approached her to defuse the situation, she became verbally abusive, repeatedly referring to responding officers as ‘stupid little wankers’ and ‘twats.’ Citations issued for disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace and public intoxication.”

“Jesus” sighed Beth as she rolled her eyes. 

“So waive em, then?”

“I s’pose” said Beth making a mental note to buy a round for Sam and Dave (the arresting officers) next time she saw them at O’Rourke’s.

“Gotta fill this out” he said handing her a clip board with Sarah’s paperwork. 

A few minutes later an older heavy-set female guard emerged with Sarah shuffling behind her in hand cuffs with her head down.   
Sarah looked up and groaned.

“Nice to see you too” said Beth without looking up from the paperwork.

“Morning Detective Childs” said the guard as she removed Sarah’s handcuffs.

“Good morning, Darla” said Beth finally looking up from her paperwork and glancing over at Sarah who avoided her gaze.  God, she looked rough.

“Hang on...this has got to be your sister, right?” said Darla.

“Yep,” Beth nodded, making eye contact with Sarah and then she added drily, “and we’re all just so proud.”  Sarah looked away.

“I knew it! She looks just like you!” exclaimed Darla. Then she chuckled and added, “Well, if you had just spent the night puking your guts out and sleeping on a concrete floor.”

“Piss off” muttered Sarah.

“That’s enough out of you” snapped Darla.

“She give you trouble last night?” asked Beth lightly.

“Not especially, other than calling me a ‘stupid cow’ whenever I was tryin’ to take vitals from her drunk ass.” Turning to Sarah she added, “You remember that?”

“Nah really…” chuckled Sarah.  Beth looked up and glared at her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean it” said Sarah in a chastened tone.

“Sarah never means anything” said Beth as she signed the form with the flourish and looked back up. Her phone buzzed with another text from Rachel: (“Not to diminish our friendship, but if you screw this up for me, I will make sure you’re patrolling a toll bridge in the Yukon for the rest of your days.”)  Beth exhaled loudly and texted back “On my way” and then turned to Sarah, “Come on. Let’s go. I gotta be somewhere.”

When they got to Beth’s car, Sarah just stood here.

“Well, get in” snapped Beth.

“Where’re we goin’?”

“My place. I’ll drop you off so you can sleep and get cleaned up.

“Nope. Nice pantsuit by the way.  You running for office?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” said Beth as she slammed the car door shut in disgust. 

“What?”

“I should’ve just left you there.”

“Maybe you should have” challenged Sarah, “And for the record, I didn’t call you.”

“Nice” said Beth shaking her head. “You know with your record you were probably looking at a couple of weeks in county for that little performance last night, but sure, by all means fuck me for helping you.” 

Sarah began to chuckle. 

“Now what?” snapped Beth.

“Sorry. It’s just..What’d I do?”

Beth snorted a laugh and shook her head, “Well let’s see....You got drunk and stupid at a bar and then you made it worse when the cops showed up by giving them a hard time so they wrote you up for Disorderly Conduct, Disturbing the Peace and...”

“Oh come on, that’s like the same thing, innit?” said Sarah cutting her off.

“Kinda” Beth conceded “And public intoxication.”

“Shit, Seriously? That’s it? That’s bullshit!”

“Well, let’s just say cops don’t like it when you call them names, alright? But Sarah, aren’t you getting a little old for this shit.”

“Apparently not.”

“Listen, I’m late for court and you’re carrying around that bag so you’re obviously between couches at the moment. So...”

“Fine” she smirked, “Take me to Fe’s.”

“Felix is in Bermuda with his new boyfriend, Simon and Charlotte is studying abroad this semester in Berlin so it’s either my place or Siobhan’s.  What’s it gonna be?”

“What? When did all that happen?”

“Just get in. If you’re gonna disappear for the better part of the year you’re going to miss a few things. I’ll tell you all about it tonight after I get back from court.  I’ll even pick up Chinese from that place you like. I should be back around seven.  Afterwards you can leave and do whatever the hell you want.”

“Fine” huffed Sarah as she sat down, “But no more lectures.”   

“Fine, no more lectures. Now buckle up.” said Beth.

Sarah--ignoring the last bit--rolled to her side, curled up into the fetal position and closed her eyes. 

Beth muttered, “Whatever” under her breath and began to drive.

After a few moments Sarah murmured, “Thanks.”

Beth reached over and patted her back in light circles. 

Sarah just groaned in response.  


	3. Chapter 3

Beth had just cleared security at the courthouse when she saw Rachel Duncan across the rotunda bearing down hard on her with a dangerous look on her face.  Beth opened her mouth to apologize, but stopped short when Rachel threw her hand up to cut her off, swept past her and snapped, “We still have a precious few hours before the hearing which I do not intend to waste. Do try and keep up.”  Beth smirked, turned on her heel to follow and said, “Yes, Ma'am.”

 

They spent the next three hours in Rachel’s office going over the evidence Beth relied on to apply for the warrant and everything she did with the evidence she collected until she logged it into the evidence locker at the station.   After a quick lunch in the courthouse cafeteria, they made their way to the courtroom. 

 

The last Wednesday of every month was “motion day.”  It was a chance for prosecutors and defense attorneys to argue any motions they wanted decided prior to trial and outside the presence of the jury.  In criminal cases that usually meant “motions to suppress” filed to keep out certain evidence or testimony--usually because the defense thought it was unreliable, irrelevant, overly prejudicial or had been improperly obtained in violation of the defendant’s rights.  

 

Motion day was set up as a “cattle call” which meant that everyone who filed a motion in the prior month was supposed to just show up at the same time and the court would then hear the motions in the order of the court’s discretion rather than everyone having their own pre-set time.  This always made for a full courtroom at the start.  Today, however, it was standing room only given the volume of press that were there covering the Leekie trial.

 

As Rachel and Beth walked to the front  of the courtroom to check in with the bailiff, they passed Cosima in conference with a client at one of the defense tables.   She barely acknowledged them (so as not to alarm her client into thinking she was overly friendly with the prosecution or police.)  However, a few moments after Beth had taken her seat, her phone vibrated with a text message:

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“Hey good luck today you two! but don't forget--margs at La Juanita tonight!  Delphine says shes in AND shes on call so she can drive!!”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Elizabeth isn’t allowed to come unless she’s FLAWLESS today.”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“I’m not kidding.”

 

Beth Childs:

“and Rachel can’t come unless she takes a Xanax.”

 

Beth Childs:

“also not kidding”

 

Beth heard Cosima snort a laugh from across the courtroom.  

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“Take it easy you two.  I mean it’s only your careers on the line 😊”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Don’t you have your own hearing to prepare for?”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“I’m just asking because of what happened last time.”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“Im going to ignore that”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Are you?”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“You only won because the stupid law and the facts were on your side”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Glad you can admit when you’re wrong.”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“I admit nothing. It’s a stupid fucking fascist law”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“How eloquent! You’ve convinced me. I’ll contact the judge immediately.”

 

Beth Childs:

“I’m almost afraid to ask...”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“That it’s illegal to swear in a public park in Toronto. They ought to just call it what it is—an excuse to stop & frisk anyone on a goddamned hunch rule!”

 

Beth Childs:

“Oh I use to love that one!”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Profanity is a scourge. 😊”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“🖕”

 

Beth Childs:

“Hey you guys I actually have to raincheck tonight. I’m having dinner with my sister.”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“bummer man I didn’t know she was back from Germany why don’t you just bring Charlotte with you”

 

Beth Childs:

“Sarah, not Charlotte.” 

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Dear god is that why you were late this morning?”

 

Beth Childs:

“Yes”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“Hows she doing these days?”

 

Beth Childs:

“Well, she’s not in jail”

 

Beth Childs:

“Anymore that is”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“Sorry”

 

Beth Childs:

“It’s fine. Nothing major. I took care of it.”

 

Just then the members of the press in the courtroom began to stir. Beth turned and saw Daniel Rosen and his minions entering the courtroom and making their way to the front. 

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“there really should be some kind of fanfare”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“I mean why send one attorney when you can send ten?"

 

Rachel Duncan:

“My reputation proceeds"

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“Well now i just feel bad for the judge"

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“and beth"

 

Rosen made a beeline to the bailiff’s desk, muttering “excuse me, pardon me, sorry” to the people waiting as he cut to the front of the queue of people trying to check in for court.  After a few moments of hushed discussion, the bailiff summoned Rachel and took both them back into judge’s chambers.  About twenty minutes later, Rachel returned with a perturbed look on her face and began packing up her files into her briefcase.  

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“Continuance?”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Yes. Apparently Dr. Leekie has cracked a tooth and is having it repaired this afternoon.”

 

Cosima Neihaus:

“That’s bullshit”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Yes. It is. The more interesting question, however, is why?”

 

Beth Childs:

“What’s bullshit is I have to come back.”

 

Rachel Duncan:

“Well at least this means more time for us to prep.  It might be easiest if you just give me direct access to your calendar”

 

Beth Childs:

“Um...no" 

 

She could hear Cosima snickering from across the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, it looks like it actually is illegal to use profanity in a public park in the city of Toronto. I was trying to come up with something Cosima would think was a stupid effing law that the police could abuse as a pretext to stop people so I googled “stupid laws in Canada” and bingo! #godblesstheinternet!


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah chugged a glass of water in Beth’s kitchen and then went looking for some aspirin in the bathroom.  Even in her sleep-deprived, thoroughly hungover state she’d been taken aback at the sheer volume and variety of prescription drugs Beth had in her medicine cabinet.  What the hell was her uptight, rule-following, cop of a sister doing with all this shit? She’d have to give that some thought...later. Now, she just needed to sleep. After surveying her options she selected the bottle of Valium, shook one into her palm, washed it down with water from the tap and flopped fully clothed onto Beth’s bed.  She was practically asleep before her head hit the pillow. Hours later she woke with a start when Sherlock, Beth's giant tabby cat, jumped on her back.  By the look of the sun it was late afternoon. 

Still feeling logy from the combined effect of the Valium and her hangover, Sarah made her way to the kitchen for something to calm her acidic stomach.  Beth had nothing in her fridge other than a half-eaten take-out container of Thai food that looked like it had been in there a while, a sad looking rotisserie chicken and a few yogurts so Sarah settled for tea and toast followed by a long hot shower. As she was toweling off, she noticed one side of the closet was completely empty. So Special Ops Kens must be out of the picture…interesting.  After she got dressed into something cleanish from her bag, she plugged in her dead phone to charge. After a few minutes, it came to life and she saw that she had several missed calls and a text from her friend Dizzy.  

Sarah had known Dizzy for years. They frequented the same dives and orbited some of the same questionable circles.  He was covered in tattoos and looked shady as hell, but looks can be deceiving and Sarah liked him even if she didn't altogether trust him.  The feeling was entirely mutual.  As far as she knew, he spent most of his time skulking around the dark web, but he made a decent living because people hired him to hack into shit and he was discrete and good. 

From time to time he called Sarah with odd jobs he deemed within her skill-set “so to speak” and he usually paid well. From time to time they also slept together. These two things weren’t mutually exclusive, but she hadn't seen or heard from him in months. Intrigued, she called him back.  Sure enough he had a job for her if she was interested. Sarah grinned to herself and said, "Sure, why not."  He told her where to meet him in an hour and to wear something forgettable. No problem there. She went right into Beth's closet and grabbed one of her preppy sweaters and a headband. She looked down and saw Sherlock staring at her as if he disapproved. “Don worry, I’ll bring it back” smirked Sarah. She felt only a twinge of guilt as she left a note for Beth on the kitchen table that something had come up and apologizing for missing dinner.

***

After the evidentiary hearing was cancelled, Beth exited the courthouse parking garage and drove back to the station to take advantage of her unexpectedly free afternoon to catch up on some long overdue paperwork.  She never even noticed the navy blue SUV that followed her and parked down the street from the entrance to the station.

When she got there, she discovered Art was out chasing down leads without her on a gangland murder they were working.  She called him to let him know the hearing had been continued.  After he stopped laughing when she told him this meant more goddamn prep sessions with Rachel, they made plans to meet at the gun range the next morning to get in some practice and discuss next steps in their open cases.  

***

Sarah met Dizzy at a downtown bar a little after 5pm.  He was sitting in a booth by the window with a pitcher of beer with two pint glasses.  He seemed genuinely pleased to see her.  

"'Lo, Sarah. Been a while, hasn't it?"

"You know" she smiled, "I don't think I've ever seen you out in the daylight. Thought you were some kind of vampire or somethin'."

"Well, I s'pose we're both a bit on the nocturnal side" he grinned as he poured her a beer and slid it across the table.  

"Yeah I reckon. Cheers" she added and took a drink. “How'd you know I was back?"

"Ah well...I swung by the Ox for a drink last night and uh...heard you had a bit o' trouble." said Dizzy with his blue eyes twinkling and sounding every bit the Newfoundlander that he was. 

"You could say that" she chuckled, "So what's up?"

"See that bar over there?" said Dizzy gesturing out the window towards a cheesy-looking sports bar across the way.

"Yeah" said Sarah.

"Well, in 'bout an hour that place is gonna be packed for the Leafs-Bruins game tonight including..." he paused as he fished his phone out of his pocket, "this guy." He handed her his phone to show her a picture of a clean-cut looking guy in his late 20s or early 30s in a gray suit. "Never misses a game at his local over there. I'd like about ten minutes alone with his unlocked cellphone--with him being none the wiser o’course.  Think you can manage that?"

"Sure” she grinned, “What's it worth to you?"

"Let's see..." Dizzy made a show of thinking about it, "$500?"

"A grand" she parried.

Dizzy laughed and rolled his eyes. "Split the difference with me--$750"

"$900" said Sarah as she took a long drink of her beer.

"Jesus" he said shaking his head, “$800.”

"Deal" she said with a smile as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

A half hour later, she'd changed into Beth's boring sweater, tamed her hair into a neat french braid and made her way to the sports bar just as the game was starting.  Dizzy followed her about ten minutes later and took a seat at a table against the wall in the back.  

It didn't take her long to find her mark at the bar with a couple of his mates.  As luck would have it, the stool next to him was open. Sarah took a seat and ordered a glass of white wine. If they interacted at all, hopefully all he'd remember about "Holly" is that she was a senior at City College studying nursing and waiting for her friends. None of that, however, would be necessary. He was glued to the game and never even looked at her.  During the first commercial she saw him fish his phone out of his coat pocket. As he thumbed in his pass code, she had to stifle a laugh. 1-3-5-7-9.  Christ, why bother? 

She waited until the second period when he was swept up in the drama of a controversial penalty shot awarded to the other team, lifted the phone from his coat pocket and made a beeline for the ladies. By the time she got there, Dizzy was waiting for her.  He disappeared into the men's room with the phone, emerged less than five minutes later and handed it back to her. She wiped it down and had it back in superfan's pocket before the next commercial. She threw a generous tip on the counter and left. 

***

Beth left the station around 7pm and drove over to the Three Happiness to get take-out for her and Sarah.  The blue SUV followed a block or so behind her and parked across the street. 

The restaurant was packed with the take-out line snaking almost to the door.  When it was finally her turn, she ordered General Tso’s chicken, Mongolian Beef, two egg rolls and two hot & sour soups.  The young cashier smiled, gave her a number and she went to stand with the rest of the people waiting for their take-out orders.  

As she waited, she felt her phone buzz in her coat pocket.  Cosima had texted a picture of a traumatized looking Rachel with a large unnaturally pink margarita in a kitschy glass sporting a prickly pear garnish with the message, “See what you’re missing? I made her try bean dip too! Just tell Sarah to grow the fuck up and come join us!” 

Beth smiled, her thumbs poised to respond, but before she got a chance, the restaurant erupted in screams. She looked up and saw two armed men wearing bandanas over the lower half of their faces at the door. One of them shouted, "Alright everyone on the floor! Now!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are the reason I put a trigger warning for violence on this story. Suffice it to say, my recent google search history on guns, mass shootings and how off-duty police officers are supposed to behave during such events probably has me on several government watch lists.

The restaurant erupted in chaos as the two gunman scanned the crowd with their weapons drawn. After a moment, one of them nodded to the other and charged through the dining area gesturing to the cash register with his gun and shouting, “Open it!” The other gunman began walking through the dining area shouting at customers to get down with their hands flat on the floor in front of them.

 

Beth took care to conceal her gun and shoulder holster from view as she went to the ground.When the gunman on crowd control turned his back to her momentarily, she snuck her hand inside her blazer to unsnap the leather strap on her shoulder holster and snicked off the safety on her Walther.

 

She felt her heart pounding as adrenaline dumped into her system so she consciously centered herself and began “tactical” breathing.She did yoga practice once or twice a week. While other people were practicing everyday mindfulness, however, she was focused on the four count—breathe in to the count of four, hold to the count of four, exhale to the count of four, hold again to the count of four and then repeat as needed. Studies had shown this technique slowed the heart rate to allow better tactical performance under stress. It was taught to soldiers and first responders worldwide and it worked—but only if you practiced. After two breathing cycles, Beth’s heart rate began to slow and she shifted her focus to next steps.

 

No matter what, she didn’t want to make things worse.These guys were armed to their teeth and she was surrounded by customers.To her left was a young mother who was laying on top of her small child. Both were sobbing.To her right was a skinny dark haired teenaged boy who unfortunately reminded her of a young Felix. Just beyond him was a young man in his twenties with a crew cut who looked calm and focused. Maybe military thought Beth.Anyway, she couldn’t draw without escalating what was probably just a smash & grab into something deadly. She glanced over and saw a partition wall about five feet away. “There,” she thought, “Just in case. A bit of cover. Away from the crowd. If I have to.”

 

The first gunman was now shouting at the young cashier while she sobbed, hands shaking and tried to comply.Beth began trying to mentally absorb everything she could about these clowns— they were both white, caucasian males, maybe 5’9” or 5’10”, Canadian accents, city probably. The one by the counter had on beat up canvas work-pants and a matching canvas jacket and...well that’s interesting...super high end tactical boots like the ones the SWAT team wore.She could see a scar peaking over the bandana down the side of his face.

 

The one closer to the door had on baggy jeans, and a hoodie and was wearing the same expensive boots. The more she watched them move, the more she began to suspect they had on bullet proof vests under their baggy clothes and not just the bulky ones you could buy at a big box store, but the ultra-thin high-tech ones—like the one hanging unhelpfully in her locker back at the station.When the guy at the door extended his gun arm in her general direction, she saw some sort of tattoo on his forearm but couldn’t make it out from her position on the floor.

 

And then there were the guns. Talk about overkill. Door Guy had an AR-15 and the one at the counter had what looked like a Tec-9 semiautomatic pistol. This didn’t make sense.

 

The cashier finished emptying the money from the register into a plastic carryout bag and handed it to the gunman. He then turned around and said, “Got it” like it was a joke. Door Guy just shrugged. Then Cashier Guy smiled, and unless she was imagining it, locked eyes with Beth, and then shot the cashier in the head at point blank range.Most people screamed. Beth lay motionless on the floor in stunned disbelief. The Gunman glanced again in Beth’s direction, muttered, “Well, shit,” and then turned and shot the waiter standing behind the counter before opening fire into the crowd of customers on the floor to his left.

 

People were screaming and diving for cover. Beth rolled to her left and dove for the partition wall. Then she stood up and fired a few shots at Door Guy before turning to fire on the one by the cash register.Both began to return fire at her as she dove back onto the floor behind the partition, swapped out her empty clip, took a deep breath, got to her knees and then began firing at Door Guy’s knees. She saw him fall to the ground and ducked back down. She waited til she thought she heard Cashier Guy reloading and then quickly stood up. As she pulled the trigger, there was a second where she felt the impacts that knocked her backward and thought “oh that’s what it feels like” before she registered the pain. As she landed on her back, her eyes fluttered as she gasped a wet breath and lost all consciousness.

 

***

 

After leaving the sports bar, Sarah met Dizzy at a different bar across town. Once he paid her, they ordered drinks and started listening to a shitty band. He kept trying to get her to tell him what she’d been up to on the West Coast for the last six months.  All she'd tell him was that she’d been bartending at a ski resort over the winter. 

 

“Really? You ski?”

 

“Nope” she laughed.

 

So just bartending then, were you?" he'd asked in disbelieving tone. 

 

"Well, you're just a guy who likes computers aren't ya?" she shrugged. 

 

“Fair enough" he sighed, “bet those rich folks on vacation never knew what hit ‘em.”At that moment a large motorcade of police cars, ambulances and fire trucks raced by the bar with their sirens and flashers activated.A few minutes later another even larger group of cop cars and ambulances screamed by. They could hear the hum of helicopters overhead.

 

“Wonder what that’s all about?” mused Sarah.

 

“Can’t be good.” muttered Dizzy.He then picked up his phone and began scrolling. “Oh see, look here—according to the police scanner bunch of people got shot at some restaurant.”

 

“You follow the police scanner?”

 

“Somethin’ like that...looks like a coupla assholes robbed the place then shot a whole bunch of customers.Sounds like they got away though.”

 

“Weird” mused Sarah, “Nobody pays in cash anymore. Why would anyone do somethin’ terrible like that for a couple a hundred bucks?”

 

“If it was even about the money. Maybe junkies? Or terrorists” offered Dizzy.

 

“Yeah, I s’pose” shrugged Sarah as she knocked back her drink.

 

***

 

For the last ten minutes or so Rachel had been interrogating the young waiter regarding the “source” of the shrimp, lobster and scallops that went into the seafood enchiladas and whether it was fresh, farm-raised, Wild, organic, sustainable or had ever been even the slightest bit frozen. Cosima had her head buried in her hands. Delphine just looked mildly amused.After the poor waiter left to ask the chef the latest barrage of questions, Rachel looked over at Cosima and said, “What?”

 

“You know damn well this isn’t that kind of place.”

 

“Well, how else will he learn?” sniffed Rachel, “Anyway, I would have thought someone like you would understand.”

 

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Well, you’re awfully natural, aren’t you?”

 

“I am not ‘natural’ whatever that means.I mean yes I care about the environment and I do love a good farm to table restaurant, but I also love the occasional bowl of processed cheese” said Cosima gesturing toward the queso.

 

“Some would say as an American it is her birthright,” added Delphine.

 

“Indeed” smirked Rachel.

 

“Exactly!...Wait, what?”

 

Rachel took a sip of her prickly pear margarita and then cringed, “You know, I had the most delightful blood orange margarita at the Four Seasons in Cabo San Lucas last year. Have you been? If not, you really must go sometime.”

 

“Can’t say that I have” laughed Cosima as she took a sip of her sangria, “But once when I was in college a bunch of us drove down to Tijuana and after a night of Coronas and tequila shots we got the most delightful tattoos!”

 

“Take it easy you two” said Delphine.Rachel rolled her eyes.

 

Just then Delphine’s phone buzzed. She looked down at the text and frowned.

 

“What is it?” said Cosima.

 

“Mass casualty.I must go,” said Delphine wiping her mouth with a paper napkin.

 

“Oh no” said Cosima with raised eyebrows.

 

“Yes” said Delphine, “It must be very serious. This text went to everyone, not just those of us on call. Be safe cherie and I’ll call you when I know more. Goodbye Rachel. Oh and try not to torture the wait staff.”

 

“Don’t worry I’ll leave him a generous tip” replied Rachel as Delphine gathered her things and quickly left. Rachel then opened the news app on her phone and began scrolling.A moment later she said, “Apparently there’s been a mass shooting at a downtown restaurant. Multiple dead, multiple injured, manhunt underway for the shooters.”

 

“What restaurant?” asked Cosima?

 

“Doesn’t say” frowned Rachel.

 

***

By the time Dizzy left the bar just before 10pm to do god knows what, Sarah had a solid buzz and was cheerfully contemplating her options.She could go back to Beth’s, apologize for missing dinner and get a good night’s sleep. She could carry on flirting with the bartender (she was just Sarah’s type—bit rough around the edges, easy laugh, kind eyes) to see if anything came of it. Or in light of the fact her stomach had been growling for an hour, she could get a take-away, break into Felix’s and Skype him in Bermuda to find out what the hell was going with this new boyfriend.She signaled the bartender for another beer with a big grin which was returned in kind.“Option two it is” she thought with a smirk. While she waited, she glanced up at the television over the bar just as the evening news began:

 

“Tonight, the City of Toronto is on edge following what appears to be the deadliest mass shooting to strike the city in years. Just after 7pm this evening, reports began pouring in that multiple customers and staff were shot during an apparent robbery at a popular Midtown eatery. This is an evolving story, but there are unconfirmed reports of seven dead and at least ten wounded including an off-duty police detective who attempted to intervene and is currently in critical condition at Queen’s hospital fighting for her life...”

 

The color drained from Sarah’s face—Her...they said the off-duty police detective was a her.

 

Sarah exhaled loudly, pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Beth muttering, “Come one, pick up, pick up...” It went to voicemail.“Shit!” she spat and then quickly texted Beth to call her. She went back into her contacts and called Siobhan. Straight to voicemail. “Shit!” 

 

She raked her hands through her hair, drained her beer and tried to make herself calm down. There were probably dozens of female police detectives in the city, right? Any one of whom might have been off-duty in a restaurant, yeah? 

 

“Here you go” said the bartender with a smile setting down Sarah’s fresh beer and interrupting her reverie.

 

“Thanks” muttered Sarah.

 

The grin faded from the bartender’s face, “You all right?”

 

“Hey” said Sarah pointing at the tv, “they say which restaurant it was?”

 

“I think they did earlier...some Chinese place...oh man what was it?”

 

“Three Happiness?” said Sarah with dread. 

 

“Yeah, that’s it.” said the bartender.

 

Sarah stood up, threw some money on the counter and stormed out of the bar.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Beth almost certainly would have bled out in the restaurant had it not been for the other customers.  After she went down, the gunman by the cash register stopped shooting. He then dashed over to his fallen comrade (whom Beth had shot in the leg), hoisted him up to his feet and then dragged him out of the restaurant as the distant sound of police sirens could be heard approaching.   As soon as they left, several of the customers began rendering first aid to the injured. The guy with the military haircut that Beth had noticed began shouting about getting pressure on the wounds and tourniquets.   The teenaged boy who had reminded Beth of a young Felix stripped off his belt and put in on Beth’s leg to staunch the heavy flow of blood while an elderly woman tied off Beth’s arm with the strap of her purse and a third customer pulled off his shirt and used it to apply pressure to her chest wounds.  When the first responders arrived a few minutes later, she was immediately tagged as critical and was among the first of the wounded to be taken to hospital.  She coded on the way.

***

Delphine made good time and arrived at the emergency wing of the hospital less than thirty minutes after she received the text calling her in.  As she quickly changed into her scrubs, she heard the sound of multiple sirens approaching the hospital.  She ran-walked to the emergency department and joined the group of waiting doctors and nurses who were being briefed on the situation by the Chief of the Trauma Department.  As the closest level one trauma center, they were expecting at least ten critical patients and another dozen or so injured. Little did they know they’d get twice that number of each. The doctors and nurses were broken up into trauma teams just as the first wave of ambulances began pulling into the ambulance bay.  Delphine’s team was to take the third ambulance.  She watched as the first ambulance pulled up and revealed a critically injured young boy covered in blood strapped to a gurney accompanied by his father who had been shot in the arm. The EMTs shouted the child’s vitals to the waiting trauma team who quickly rushed him inside.  Within seconds the next ambulance had arrived.  Its doors immediately flung open to reveal an EMT sitting astride a patient and administering chest compressions.  The EMT shouted, “Female, unresponsive with multiple gunshot wounds to the torso, leg and arm.” As the gurney passed by Delphine caught the glint of a police badge on the belt of the patient and did a double-take.  She couldn’t be sure because it happened so fast, but it looked like Beth Childs, Cosima’s detective friend. 

***

Over the next few hours there were so many news vans, reporters and law enforcement vehicles that local police set up a perimeter around the hospital—allowing only ambulances to come and go.  Family and friends of the victims and survivors from the restaurant were being turned away from the emergency room and directed to the hospital’s lecture hall on the other side of the complex to await news about their loved ones. Most of the dead had not yet been identified and the emergency ward was in chaos. 

When Sarah arrived, she was quickly redirected to the lecture hall, but when she went there, no one, NO ONE would tell her if her sister was a patient.   With mounting frustration, she circled back to the emergency ward.  After she was again stopped and told to go to the lecture hall, she slipped past the checkpoint as an ambulance passed through and entered the bay of the emergency room. She marched to the front desk, and waited impatiently rocking back and forth on her heels until the frazzled nurse behind the counter hung up the phone.

“I’m looking for my sister, her name is….”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go to the lecture hall,” interrupted the nurse.

“I will. I promise. I just need you to tell me…”

“Young lady I’m sorry but you have to go to the lecture hall…”

“The news said they brought the cop who got shot here, yeah? Just tell me if her name is Elizabeth Childs. Please!”

“You have to go to the lecture hall.”

“Yeah, you people keep sayin’ that, but they don’t know shit in the lecture hall!” shouted Sarah, “I’m sick and tired of the fucking run-around. You need to tell me RIGHT NOW if Elizabeth Childs is here!” 

The nurse made eye contact with the security guard and waved him over before curtly adding, “You need to calm down.”

“Ah piss off!” shouted Sarah as she angrily swept a pile of paper off the desk onto the floor.  By then the security guard had arrived and tried to grab her arm.

“Alright. That’s enough of that” said the guard.

“Get your hands off me!” shouted Sarah as she wheeled away from the guard only to find herself in the grasp of someone else.

 “Calm down. She’s here. And if you can keep from getting arrested, I’ll tell you what I know.”

Sarah’s eyes filled with hot tears as all the anger drained from her face. “Is she alright?”

“No, chicken.  She’s not” said Siobhan as she pulled Sarah into a hug.

***

Siobhan had just gotten home from the movies when she had gotten a call from Art Bell that Beth had been involved in an off-duty shooting during an attempted robbery at a restaurant and that it was bad.  By the time Siobhan had arrived at the hospital, Beth had already been taken to surgery.  A lovely French doctor who seemed to know Beth had been very frank about her condition.  She’d been shot 5 times (twice in the leg, twice in the chest and once in the arm).  She’d lost a lot of blood, had massive internal injuries and had to be resuscitated once at the restaurant and again the ambulance on the way to the hospital.   Her condition was critical and they honestly didn’t know if she’d survive the surgery which (if they could keep her alive) was expected to last hours. 

Afterwards, Siobhan let herself cry for a few moments before taking a deep centering breath, wiping her eyes and pulling out her cell phone.  She paused over Charlotte’s number in her contacts. With the time difference it would be  three o’clock in the morning in Berlin.  She sent a text asking Charlotte to call her when she woke up.  After a moment’s reflection, she sent another text to Charlotte adding “never mind the time difference.”  Next, she called Felix who was on holiday in Bermuda, got his voicemail and left a message for him to call her as well.  She didn’t have any way to contact Sarah (and had no idea the missed call she’d received that night from an unknown number was her). She didn’t even want to think about what would happen when Sarah crawled out from whatever rock she was under only to find out her sister had died.  She’d barely contemplated that awful thought when she heard the shouting by the front desk.

***

Siobhan sat Sarah down in a chair in the corner of the waiting room and told her what she knew about Beth’s condition.

“Is she gonna die?”

“Honestly…they don't know.” said Siobhan.

“Godamnit” sobbed Sarah.

“I know” said Siobhan has she pulled her into a hug.

For the next few hours Siobhan sat in a chair and watched Sarah pace circles in the waiting room like a caged lion.  She even had her fingers in her mouth like she did when she was a little and feeling overwhelmed. Every so often she’d stop pacing and blurt out a question.

“But no major arteries, yeah?”

“That’s what they said.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Better than the alternative, I suppose.  Hey, how did you know?” marveled Siobhan.

Sarah heaved a great sigh and slumped down in the chair beside Siobhan. “Ah…might as well tell you.”

“What?”

Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears and her lip began to quiver.

“What?” repeated Siobhan.

“It’s my fault”

“How?”

“She bailed me out this morning and I was s’posed to have dinner with her after she got off work. She said she’d get take-away from that restaurant. When I saw it on the news, I knew it had to be her, right?” sniffed Sarah as Siobhan handed her a Kleenex.

“That doesn’t make it your fault, Sarah.”

“Yeah but she was gettin’ dinner for nothing. I left.  Didn’t tell her.  I mean I left a note on her kitchen table, but she didn’t know.  She shouldn’t have been there.”

Siobhan paused and then said very gently, “Still doesn’t make it your fault.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now stay here love and I’ll get us some tea.”

***

They’d had an update  around midnight that Beth was still in surgery. Siobhan must have dozed off at some point after that because the next thing she knew the sun was filtering through the waiting room window and she’d missed three calls from Charlotte and one from Felix.  Sarah had fallen asleep on the padded bench next to her and her head was in Siobhan’s lap. Siobhan sighed and lightly stroked Sarah’s hair taking care not to wake her.  She looked so different when she was asleep--when all the tension drained out of her face. Siobhan had learned long ago to take mental snapshots in moments like this to remind herself that it was worth it for the next time Hurricane Sarah blew through town.   Her mind drifted back to the night the girls had first landed on her doorstep….

***

_ August 1994 : Shortly after Felix’s adoption had been finalized, his social worker Jo, called Siobhan  at 6:30 _ _in the morning, apologized for putting her on the spot, and asked if Siobhan might take an emergency placement of two sisters--just temporarily of course--until Jo could find a more long-term solution.  Jo had spent the night at the hospital with Sarah, the 9 year old, who had been beaten and thrown against the wall by her foster mother’s boyfriend apparently for the crime of giving him a dirty look when he shouted at her to clear the table. Now Sarah had a broken collarbone, two fractured ribs, a black eye and a badly bruised jaw. Jo needed to remove her and her little sister Charlotte, age 6, from the home immediately.  The girls’ older sister Elizabeth, who was 12, was in a separate home at the time, but there wasn’t capacity for them to join her in that placement.  Until Jo could find someone to take all three of them, which she desperately wanted to do, she needed somewhere safe for Sarah and Charlotte to go and would Siobhan take them?   Siobhan went silent for a moment and then agreed._

_“Oh thank you! I’ll need to make a few calls…” began Jo, but then she was interrupted by Siobhan who blurted out, “Bring all three. They should be together.”_

_ Around 8pm , Jo arrived with the girls in tow.  6 year old Charlotte was shyly pressed up against 12 year old Beth’s legs.  Beth had her hands protectively on Charlotte’s shoulders as she somberly took in her new surroundings.  Sarah, the 9 year old, stood behind them wearing a shoulder brace with her arm in a sling and staring at the ground. They were tiny little things with curly dark brown hair and amber eyes who looked younger than their actual ages.  But for the age difference and style of dress (Beth was neat and well-groomed, whereas Sarah was a mess from head to toe), the older two could almost have been twins.  _

_Jo didn’t stay long.  After she left, Siobhan had them take their things upstairs to the room she’d made up for them with two twin beds, one of which was a trundle. Then, she put on a movie and brought them dinner on trays so they didn’t have some awkward sit-down dinner the moment they met after the day they’d had.  None of them had much to say. Felix, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to stop talking.  Beth and Charlotte were polite but guarded. Sarah just scowled at the television.  After a few hours, Siobhan suggested it was time for bed.  Beth nodded and led a compliant Charlotte up the stairs.  Felix was disappointed as he had planned to perform his magic show for them.  As he plead his case, Mrs. S saw the faintest of smiles appear on Sarah’s face. Mrs. S told him he could do it for them in the morning and sent him off to bed too._

_Siobhan had Sarah wait back so she could check her shoulder and side for excessive swelling per the doctor’s instructions.  Sarah barely reacted as Siobhan gently probed. “Well that had to hurt more than you let on” said Siobhan with a smirk. Sarah glanced up at Siobhan with interest for the first time. It was then Siobhan caught the full effect of the black eye and bruising that had blossomed along her jaw line.  She felt a hot surge of anger flare through her body. “M’fine” muttered Sarah.  Later that night Siobhan would imagine various scenarios where she cracked open that wretched man’s skull. For now, however, she just said, “I’m sorry this happened to you” and handed Sarah her nighttime pain meds. Sarah nodded, swallowed them dry and limped up the stairs._

_***_

_Jo had told Beth the gist of what had happened. Charlotte had filled her in on the rest. And when Beth returned from the bathroom with Charlotte after helping her brush her teeth, she found Sarah sitting on the end of one of the beds trying not to cry. Beth sat down next to her._

_“I said I was fine” said Sarah through clenched teeth._

_“I’m gonna sit here anyway, okay?” sighed Beth._

_“Yeah…” squeaked Sarah and then after a pause she added tearfully, “It’s never going to stop, is it?”_

_“Yes. It will” said Beth, “As soon as I’m grown, you’ll come live with me, both of you, and it’ll be brilliant we’ll do what we like. Promise.”_

_“I didn’t even do anything this time” whispered Sarah as a rogue sob broke through and shook her little body._

_“She didn’t.  Not really.” said Charlotte who was climbing into Beth’s lap._

_“I know. Fuck him.  I mean it, fuck all of them” said Beth._

_Charlotte looked scandalized. Sarah smiled and chuffed out a little laugh, “Language, Elizabeth.”_

_“Sorry” smiled Beth._

_“Maybe we can stay here? Mrs. S seems nice” said Charlotte._

_Sarah laughed derisively, “Not gonna happen. I heard Jo beggin’ her to take us and tellin’ her it’d only be ‘temporary.’”_

_“Yeah but she adopted Felix” said Charlotte._

_“Let’s not worry about that tonight. Okay?” smiled Beth.  Then she stood up, put on the new set of flannel pajamas that Mrs. S had set out for her (they were soft, but way too big) and laid down on the other bed. Charlotte followed her over and laid down on the trundle below.  After only a minute, however, Charlotte climbed up onto Beth’s bed and wiggled her back into Beth’s chest. Beth gave her a gentle squeeze, put her chin on the top of her head and closed her eyes._

_“Can you do that thing where I tell you what it’ll be like when we’re grown?” whispered Charlotte._

_“Okay” began Beth in solemn tone, “Should we live in a house or a flat?”_

_“House” said Charlotte firmly, “Where we each have our own room…and a dog...and a cat.”_

_“Okay, a house with a dog and a cat. What kind of dog?”_

_“A beagle” smiled Charlotte._

_“And the cat?” asked Beth._

_“A fluffy grey one” said Charlotte._

_“Perfect” said Beth_

_“And we’ll have a fireplace and donuts on our birthdays and hot chocolate when it’s cold and we’ll go to the movies whenever we want” rambled Charlotte._

_“Yes to all of that and also a garden” said Beth._

_“And a treehouse?”_

_“Sure”_

_“What’s your job going to be?” asked Charlotte._

_“Hmm…maybe a teacher? What’s your job going to be?” said Beth._

_“A veterinarian or maybe an artist” replied Charlotte._

_“Oh yeah?” said Beth._

_“Yeah.  What about Sarah?” asked Charlotte._

_Sarah just groaned in response._

_Beth laughed, “Let’s not worry about that. Where will we live?”_

_“Anywhere in the world?” asked Charlotte._

_“Sure” said Beth._

_“Australia”_

_“Why?”_

_“It’s really far away from here…and they have wallabies.”_

_“True.  Should we live in the city or in the country?”_

_“I don’t know” pondered Charlotte, “I’ve never really been to the country.”_

_“By the beach” croaked Sarah._

_“The beach it is” smiled Beth.  And they went on in that vein for quite a while until they all drifted off to sleep.  When Siobhan found them the next morning, they were all sleeping in one bed--Charlotte and Beth still lying next to each other and Sarah sleeping fully clothed, sitting up against the wall at their feet.  Siobhan decided right then and there that they were staying._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess summer kind of got away from me but here’s the next chapter.

When the sun came up, the police were no closer to catching or even identifying the gunman than they’d been when the 911 calls first came in.  Surveillance cameras outside the restaurant showed they fled the scene in a navy blue SUV that was parked across the street.  The traffic camera at the next intersection showed the vehicle turning into an alley a few blocks west of the restaurant and then it was like they vanished into thin air--that is  until around 4 am , when plain clothes officers found the smoldering husk of the SUV behind the bluffs at  Riverside Park .  

For the last few hours Art Bell had been sitting at his desk at the station pouring over surveillance video from the inside the restaurant looking for something, ANYTHING that might help. 

 

“Come on,” he muttered to himself, “Think!” 

 

“How bout I think with you?” said Angela DeAngelis, startling Art.  “Shit, sorry” she smiled as she set down the coffee and donuts she was carrying and pulled up a chair.

 

“Hey Angie. What time’s it?” 

growled Art as he rubbed his eyes.

 

“Bout 6. Couldn’t sleep” she sighed. 

 

“Yeah, me neither” said Art.     

 

“Alright, then. What’s the latest?” sighed Angie. 

 

“Body count’s up to 9, with another 21 injured, 3 still critical” rattled off Art. 

 

“Jesus…Beth still in surgery?” said Angie as she ran her hands through her hair.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Well,” exhaled Angie, “this many hours later, that’s got to be good sign, right?”

 

“I guess” grimaced Art.  

 

“Got anything on the get-away car?”

 

“Yeah, patrol found it this morning burnt to a crisp in the park. Knew what they were doing too. Doused the interior with bleach before they torched it, filed off the VIN, the whole nine yards. Turns out it was stolen a few weeks ago and had plates from a completely different stolen vehicle.”

 

“Well, that’s not very helpful” smirked Angie.

 

“No, it's not” agreed Art. 

 

“Any leads on the gunmen?” asked Angie. 

 

“Nothin’,” deadpanned Art. “They got their faces covered up the whole time.  All the people in the restaurant say they sounded local, that they demanded the money from the cash register and then after they got it, they just decided to shoot up the place. I got Raj combing through the city traffic cameras to try and see where they came from and where they went.” 

 

“That the video from inside the restaurant?” 

 

“Uh huh”

 

“Art, why are you doing this to yourself?”

 

“Because, Angie, there’s something weird about it. Can’t put my finger on it.”

 

Angie exhaled, “You mean other than them shooting the place up AFTER they got the money?”

 

“Yeah” smirked Art.

 

“Okay, talk me through it then.”

 

“Alright” smiled Art as he rewound the video and paused it just after the gunmen entered the restaurant. “First off, look at these two clowns. Look like a couple of amateurs looking for a quick score, except look at their guns.  That’s a Tec-9 and that’s an AR-15. Now where’re they gonna get pieces like that and why the hell would you need that kind of firepower to stick up some mom & pop restaurant?” 

 

“Maybe they’ve seen one to many movies?” offered Angie.

 

“Maybe, but look here.  Here’s what’s really bothering me.”  Art let the video run to the point where the cashier handed over the bag of money.  “Why not just leave at that point?”

 

“I know, weird. Maybe…” frowned Angie, “…it’s not about the money?”

 

“Exactly. And if it wasn’t about the money, what’s it about?” mused Art. 

 

“I don’t know. Gotta be some bullshit reason, right?”

 

“Then why the pretense with the money?” snapped Art as he rewound the video again and let it play on. “Now see here,” he paused it, “He shoots the cashier point blank, then looks around like he’s waiting for something and then pops off like a hundred rounds into the crowd. These people didn’t have a chance with that one blocking the door. Like shooting fish in a barrel.” 

 

“Which is when Beth starts returning fire from over here, right? Takes out door guy—which is smart—gives people a chance to get out of there…” said Angie, lost in thought. 

 

“Exactly.  Then this one takes out Beth and then they just leave.”

 

“Hang on, rewind it” snapped Angie.  Art complied and let it play again. “Now stop” she barked just after the gunman had shot the cashier. “Am I crazy or is he staring Beth down BEFORE she draws?”

 

***

 

Sarah startled awake on the waiting room bench and wiped a bit of drool off of the side of her mouth as she sat up.  It took her a second to get her bearings but then she saw Siobhan pacing nearby and talking on her cell phone in a strangely soothing tone.  Had to be Charlotte. 

 

“Just book the next one you can, love.  Once you do, I’ll call Air Canada, explain the situation and see if they’ll discount the fare based on family emergency. This is all over the news here…Okay, I will. Call me when you get to the airport. See you soon…I will.  Love you. Bye.” 

 

After she hung up, Siobhan looked over at Sarah. 

 

“Poor dear. She’s beside herself” frowned Siobhan.

 

“Yeah…” Sarah cleared her throat, “Hey, what’s the latest?” 

 

“Still in surgery. They say she’s been pretty stable for the last few hours.  Not out the woods yet, but they think things are looking up.  The trauma surgeons just finished with the bleeding in her chest, liver and leg and the orthopedic surgeons have started working on her arm.  The French doctor said one of the bullets shattered the bone in her upper arm and they’ll need to stabilize it and her shoulder with some hardware, but they couldn’t even begin that repair until they’d done the rest.” sighed Siobhan as she ran her hands through her hair. 

 

“Christ. You know, she survives this, she’s not allowed to be a cop anymore, yeah?” said Sarah shaking her head.

 

“We’ll see about that” smirked Siobhan. Then, pointing to a banana and steaming cup of coffee she’d placed for Sarah on the coffee table, “Hungry?”

 

Sarah screwed her face up, “Nah.” 

 

“Eat it anyway” smiled Siobhan. 

 

“Yeah, alright” grumbled Sarah but then she looked around furtively, pulled a flask out of her jacket and dumped a slug of whiskey into her coffee and looked over at Siobhan with an eyebrow raised. 

 

“Go on then” sighed Siobhan as she held her cup out for Sarah. They exchanged grim smiles as Sarah obliged.

 

***

 

“You know…I think you’re right. He is staring her down. Think she said something to him?” said Art.

 

“Probably.  Wish this thing had sound” said Angie. 

 

“Okay but let’s say she didn’t” mused Art. 

 

“Maybe he sees her gun?” offered Angie. 

 

“Maybe” said Art. 

 

“You know this is gonna sound crazy, but it almost looks like he was baiting her to return fire.”

 

“That’s ridiculous. How would they possibly know there’d be an armed off-duty cop in there in the first place?”

 

“Because” interrupted Raj, “they followed her there.”

 

“What?” snapped Art and Angie in unison. 

 

“Look” said Raj slapping several 8 x 10 photos on Art’s desk, “Here’s the blue SUV about 30 minutes before the shooting.  It’s parked around the corner just to the south side of the station.  Now look, here’s Beth leaving the station about 10 minutes later.   And here they are stopped at the same light about halfway between here and the restaurant. Can’t be a coincidence, right?”

 

“Holy shit!” exhaled Angie, “How did you find that?” 

 

“Went traffic light, by traffic light backwards from the time they parked at the restaurant”

 

“That had to have taken you…”

 

“All night? Yeah” smiled Raj. 

 

So what does that mean? This was somehow personal?” said Angie.

 

Art stood up and put on his jacket.

 

“Where are you going?” asked Angie. 

 

“To the hospital. If you’re right, she’s not safe. We need to get a guard on her room when she comes out of surgery. And Raj, see if you can find where they were before they got to the station. Beth spent the morning at the courthouse. Start there.”

 

***

 

When Beth finally got out of surgery later that afternoon, Siobhan and Sarah were briefly allowed into the ICU to see her but she was in a medically induced coma and on a ventilator.  She began fighting the vent that night so the doctors removed it.  The French doctor told Siobhan that was really good sign.  Beth was stable enough the next day to return to surgery for several skin grafts and again the following day to adjust the rod holding her shattered arm in place.  The AR-15 bullets had left exit wounds on her back and thigh the size of large plums.

 

Over the next few days, Beth was in and out of consciousness, seemingly unaware of who was in the room. (Afterwards she’d say she recalled the “feel” of certain people—the scent of Art’s cologne she teased him about but secretly liked—the whiff of mineral spirits that clung to Felix’s clothes—the warmth of Siobhan’s hand holding hers and the smell of that lavender soap she brought back from Ireland— Charlotte’s calm presence and Sarah’s restless pacing in the night.) 

 

When Siobhan asked about the armed guard stationed outside Beth’s room, Art had been coy saying it was only a “precaution.”  It was Sarah who later overheard him on the phone explaining that their working theory was that the gunmen had followed Beth to the restaurant and had targeted her in the shooting for unknown reasons.  None of that was being reported in the news.  When they confronted Art about it over dinner the next night, he reluctantly confirmed what Sarah had overheard.  He explained the task force was currently combing through her old case files to see if they could identify anyone who had threatened her or matched the description of the gunmen.  They were also hitting up all of their confidential informants and scouring the dark web in case it was a contract hit, but they’d had no luck so far.  The question that continued to confound police was: If Beth was the target, why shoot up the whole restaurant? 

 

*** 

 

On the fourth night after the shooting Beth finally woke up and started talking.  She blinked her eyes open and quickly registered she was in a dimly lit hospital room. As her eyes came into focus and adjusted to the dark, she saw she wasn’t alone.  She could see Sarah’s black clad form sleeping in a chair beside her bed with her arms folded across her chest and her head thrown back.  She thought, “What the hell?” and then she remembered what happened, tried to sit up, found she couldn’t move anything other than her right arm and began to panic. 

 

“Sarah” she hissed. 

 

Nothing.

 

She tried again, “Sarah!”  This time rousing her.

 

“Hey! You’re back.” said Sarah with a grin that began to fade as she noticed Beth’s frightened eyes. 

 

“Sarah. I can’t move. Why can’t I move my arm or legs?”  

 

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy, alright. It’s okay.  They didn’t want you movin’ around too much so you’re sort of immobilized. You’re not paralyzed or nothing.  They’ve done all sorts of tests.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. You’ll have to do a bunch of physical therapy and shit, but they think you’ll be fine.” 

 

Beth went quiet for a moment before muttering, “Sarah, how many?” 

 

“Oh…like five times. Twice in your leg, once in your arm and…”

 

“No,” interrupted Beth, “How many died?”

 

“Oh…er 10 and like 20 injured including you.” grimaced Sarah.

 

Beth’s eyes welled up, “I think I emptied an entire clip. How many cause of me?”

 

“What? Nobody’s said anything about that. Far as I know, the only person you shot is one of the gunman. They’re calling you the ‘hero cop’ on the news. They think you saved all sorts of lives. Really.”

 

“No, that’s bullshit! I waited too long. I didn’t want to make it worse, but I did.” Beth sobbed.

 

“No. You thought they’d just take the money & leave. Art said you did everything by the book.”

 

“But why’d they do it? They didn’t need to. They had the money, Sarah. They could have just left,” rambled Beth, “They’re in custody, right?” 

 

“Nope. Still on the run. But Beth, the cops seem to think they were actually after you.”

 

“What?”

 

“They followed you there.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense at all. Sarah, I need to talk to Art.”

 

“Alright, I’ll call him. He’s a good guy, yeah?” 

 

“The best.”

 

“I need to tell the others you’re awake too.  They’re gonna be so pissed they went home to sleep tonight.”

 

“How many days has it been?”

 

“Four and some change.”

 

“Have you been here the whole time?”

 

“More or less. Ducked out a few times for some air. You know I can’t stay cooped up in the same room as S for that long.”

 

“Yeah, I know” chuckles Beth, “Hey, has anyone fed Sherlock?”

 

“Yeah.  I’ve been by a few times. He's fine.  I don’t think he likes me though.  Follows me ‘round glaring at me like I’m up to something.”

 

“Well, Sherlock always was an excellent judge of character.”

 

“Ah...piss off. Seriously though…thought we were gonna lose you.” sniffed Sarah.

 

“Yeah me too, actually.”

 

“You have any idea who’d be after you?” 

 

“No. Not a clue” said Beth pensively. 

 

***

 

The next day Siobhan, Charlotte, Felix and Sarah all listened as Beth told Art everything she could remember about the shooting--that one of them had a vertical scar on his face and tattoo that she couldn’t make out on his arm, how the main shooter seem to stare her down before she even made a move and how she’d gotten the sense the gunmen were professionals trying to look like amateurs.  Art told Beth about how the gunman had followed her from the courthouse, to the station and then to the restaurant, that they were reviewing her old case files for anyone with an axe to grind and were shaking up all of their confidential informants for anything that might tie it to professionals.

 

When Art left, Sarah hesitated a moment and then followed him out into the hallway.  

 

“Are you gonna find these guys or what?” she barked.

 

“Sarah, we’re trying.”

 

“You really think it’s someone from an old case tryin’ to get back at her?”

 

“Well, I learned a long time ago to trust your sister’s gut.  If she thinks they were professionals trying to look like amateurs, then I’m inclined to agree.  Trouble is, we’ve had the organized crime unit hitting up every confidential informant they’ve got for tips and we’ve had our best tech guys combing the dark web for a week for chatter and so far we’ve got nothing.”

 

“So they arrange this shit on the dark web, yeah?”

 

“Sometimes.”

 

“But the cops can’t find anything.”

 

“So far.”

 

“Thanks, Art. I’ll see you around.” 

 

Sarah went back into Beth’s room and sat in the corner pensively biting her nails while Siobhan, Charlotte and Felix continued to rehash the whole conversation.  Sarah then stood up, muttered something about “having to do something” and excused herself. 

 

“What could you possibly have to do?" asked Felix in an incredulous tone. 

 

“Don worry bout it. I'll be back." 

 

They wouldn’t see her again for almost a week. 


End file.
